Let Go
by Justkillingtimewhileiwait
Summary: 3 23 epilogue inspired by @varietyofwords critique (I do not own Chicago PD or any of its characters.)


She jumped in her seat when the gun went off. She knew it was coming but that didn't stop her heart from breaking further when it actually happened. She'd tried. She tried to get through to him. Make him see he was throwing it away. Make him see that Danny needed him, Olive needed him, SHE needed him. But his need for vengeance was too strong. Stronger than she's ever seen it. There was no getting through to him. And if she couldn't reach him no one could. Her attempt to protect what was left of her family had failed.

She had no idea what was going to happen next. But as heart breaking as watching Hank's grief turn to cold blooded murder was, a piece of her understood. Only a few short months ago she herself stood with her nine trained on the head of the monster who had butchered so many innocent women, including her Nadia. And in that moment her need to avenge their deaths overpowered all reason.

Erin took a shuttered breath and turned towards home, not the loft she currently resides in, but the first place she'd ever felt truly wanted. She needed to check on Olive and maybe sneak a peak at Danny's angelic face while he slept, unaware that this night had taken both his father and possibly grandfather from his life.

/

Jay paced back and forth across her apartment. If he wasn't so worried about her he'd ring her neck. As soon as he'd spoken to Erin from that abandoned house he'd put together what happened. Voight had deliberately given them the wrong address to keep them all out of his way or to protect them. Jay wasn't sure at this point.

At first he felt anger, Voight shouldn't be running unchecked dishing out his personal brand of justice and putting the unit and his family in a bad position, but Jay also understood. He'd be a hypocrite if he said he'd never taken matters into his own hands when his grief clouded his reason. Images of dark abandoned buildings, floors covered in hot sand, came to his mind. His heart quickened as he recalled his unit moving silently through the rooms, surprising their target, and the revenge they'd claimed that night for what had been done to their brothers.

Jay shook his head. He couldn't stand here, self righteous, and say if it was his son he wouldn't do the same as Voight right now.

But Erin.

He could shake her.

He knew she'd figured out Hank's plan and took off after him in a vain attempt to stop him, protect him, protect what was left of her family. He worried now what the fall out would be for her both professionally and emotionally. Was she strong enough to endure this loss after the year she'd had?

It had taken every once of will power not to wrap her up in his arms a dozen different times today. He'd stayed close, to lend his strength, but he could see she was struggling to keep it together. He could see how badly she was fighting to stay focused on finding justice for her little brother. He could see her desperate attempt to be Voight's strength, his shoulder to lean on. Voight's rage and grief too strong that he'd all but pushed her out.

Jay knew that if he'd even laid a hand of support on Erin's shoulder the flood gates would give out and she'd be swept up in her grief. So he restrained himself, to help her find some closure in this mess.

He'd called her back after she hung up on him, texted her, but she was ignoring his calls. Again. He was tired of her running off on her own whenever her emotions took over. At least he knew where she was headed and that despite the frenzied grief driven rage Voight was consumed by, he wouldn't let anything happen to his remaining child.

They'd gone back to the district to tidy up loose ends but Antonino had sent them home within the hour. So here he was, pacing her apartment. His empathy for Voight's loss, his heart ache for Erin's pain, his disappointment that she'd gone at it alone again, his sense of right and wrong blurring, his reluctant acceptance that operating in the grey often brought more justice to this city than playing it by the book, his own history with revenge all careening in his head and making him dizzy.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and read the text.

"I'm sorry. I'm safe. Checking on Olive and the baby. Touch base soon."

The air swished out of his lungs in a released sigh. There was comfort in reading the first four words. At least, he bargained with himself, she was acknowledging she'd broken her promise.

He fired off a quick reply. "At your place, need me to come there?"

Her response came quick. "I'll be home soon."

Jay decided to see if he could find something on tv to help pass the time.

/

She could hear the soft murmur of the tv and see its lights flickering off the walls as she made her way into the living room. She smiled softly when she saw him, head back against the couch, legs propped on the coffee table eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

She came up slowly so as not to startle him. As she suspected, her movement made him stir. He whipped his head up, body tense and ready to react until his mind processed where he was and who was approaching him. His posture relaxed and he stood to greet her.

"Hey" he said sleepily.

"Hey" she replied, her voice shakily from emotional and physical exhaustion and the cold chill she still couldn't shake from being soaked in the rain. "I know you're angry with me.." She began. But he held up his hand to stop her.

"Don't. Not tonight. Just come here." She nodded and stepped towards him, his arms enveloping her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her head in his neck and and let go.


End file.
